The Wrong House
by Offcentercompass
Summary: Very brief look at The Sorting Hat's ability to change the whole Harry Potter Universe - one shot


The young boy with shaggy brown hair, black rimmed glasses and scarred forehead sat under the hat.

"Please don't be Slytherin, please don't be Slytherin" he kept repeating to himself.

The hat heard the boy, heard his conflict, his determination, his anger, his repressed hatred.

The hat searched through the boy's heart and soul and thought for a fraction of a second before crying out "Slytherin!" The boy underneath it felt bitter disappointment. "No" he cried in his head, "I don't want that, it is a mistake."

The hat recognised the denial, it thought it had definitely made the right choice, the boy was immediately frustrated, complaining and wasn't happy with the choices given to him. He was looking to place the blame on someone. He was definitely a typical Slytherin.

At the head table the oldest wizard in the room dropped his head slightly and cursed the damned hat, the smug, stupid thing. The boy needed to be protected and nurtured, he needed to be in any other house than that one.

As Harry spent time with the other boys in his house he found more and more families who had been loyal to The Dark Lord. Most of Harry's house mates thought he would return, there were rumors circulating constantly. Harry didn't mind, he wanted The Dark Lord to return too, but for a completely different reason. He wasn't going to pledge his loyalty, he wanted the chance for revenge, to hurt Voldemort and take something precious away from The Dark Lord like he had taken from Harry. He wanted to kill him and he had to come back first, so Harry listened avidly to the gossip so he would be as prepared as he could be.

Four years later Dumbledore sat in his office and looked back. The rise of The Dark Lord had been swift. Four years ago he had nearly risen, resurrected by the Philosopher's Stone. Only the mirror of Erised and the quick action of his dilligent staff had stopped it.

Three years ago he had lost a student to the basillisk in the chamber of secrets. It was the only girl of the Weasley's and had destroyed Molly and Arthur, who the older wizard counted as loyal, courageous and honest friends. The Dark Lord grew in power with her death. Harry had shocked everyone with his ability to speak to the snake in parsel-tongue. At Dumbledore's request he had managed to get the snake to retreat and the entrance to the chamber had been sealed with the creature inside, but the losses already suffered weighed heavily upon the whole school.

Last year two of Dumbledore's old students and members of The Order of the Phoenix came to the school. One as a teacher, one to hide and try and mend his family. Both were fierce supporters of the Professor and fought the uprising of The Dark Lord with fervor. They lost their lives at the hand of one of their so called friends who had been turned by The Dark Lord. Again, his power and reach grew, he was more alive now than the half dead thing he had become after the incident in the Potter house over a decade ago.

This year the tri-wizard tournament came to Hogwarts, and the school had been infiltrated by Death Eaters. The names of some of Dumbledore's most talented students had been pulled from the goblet, and the rules stated they had to compete in the deadly competition. They were his best and brightest, set for careers in the ministry or as auras, but they all perished in one task or another as foul play and manipulation marred the contest.

With the death of his last student competing Dumbledore sensed the full return of Voldemort, something twisted in the very fabric of magic. It felt like it was rebelling to the unholy resurrection, death was not a realm that should be crossed or manipulated so it could be evaded. However Tom Riddle had found a way, creating Lord Voldemort and a culture of fear in the wizarding world that had never been seen before.

That was when the dreams had started. Nightly the old wizard would see glimpses of a different past. As the nights continued and the dreams became more intense, he was able to piece together what he was seeing.

He saw The Sorting Hat place the Potter boy in Gryffindor, saw him bond with the young Weasley boy and the Grainger girl. He saw him stare down the Dark Lord and protect the Philosopher's stone.

He saw the boy call on the sword of Gryffindor and use it to stab the basilisk and the Weasley girl lived. The Dark lord lost his fight to steal the life blood of a young student and failed to grow in power.

He saw both his students and fellow members of The Order survive after a horribly long year of hiding who they really were, but they did survive and the boy found the truth about his family and who had really betrayed them.

Finally he saw just the one death in the tri-wizard tournament. It was still one too many, but it was better than what he knew had actually happened. The Dark lord returned, but he was not as powerful or well supported because he had been foiled for three years previously.

The nightly visions weren't helpful, they didn't change the past, they only served as a reminder when he woke that he had failed and that there had been far too much blood spilt. Needlessly, the sacrifice and blood of good people, people who were loyal and true and died standing up for what was right.

As Headmaster had sworn an oath to protect, and yet he was failing. He blamed himself even before the dreams started, and now he was certain he should have done more, because he felt certain he couldn't blame The Sorting Hat, surely it wasn't just that one decision that had forced this path. He could have guided the Potter boy better, helped him create better friends. He remembered thinking the boy needed nurturing at the time he was placed in Slytherin, and yet he had not done anything more than asking the Head of Slytherin House, Professor Snape, to keep an eye on him. Dumbledore's biggest fear at the time was to ensure the boy wasn't bullied by resentful children of parents who had been punished with the fall of The Dark Lord.

Pulling himself from his thoughts he realized however much he might have failed, he was still alive and powerful. He still had options and The Dark Lord hadn't completely been victorious yet. He would try and correct what he could, he would reach out to the Potter boy as the dreams seemed to indicate he was the key to fixing this mess.

The number of people to stand against The Dark Lord was diminishing daily, yet there was still a chance, there was still hope.


End file.
